


sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead

by midnightwhisperings



Category: Grand Theft Auto IV
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 02:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4417484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightwhisperings/pseuds/midnightwhisperings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niko's getting married, and Packie has a hard time coming to terms with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead

**Author's Note:**

> 'Not in That Way' by Sam Smith is a great accompaniment to this fic. If you're going to listen to it, I suggest you have tissues handy. With that said, enjoy, and please don't put me on your hitlist.

Packie's never been to any weddings before this one. For a family like his, that would seem unusual, since most people his siblings' age, like his cousins in Ireland, were already married with children. But it would seem that his siblings were either married to their jobs, drugs, or just plain solitude, and there was no wedding for _that_. _This_ wedding, though, is his first and most likely will be his last. And he can't pinpoint an _exact_ reason why.

 

Maybe the thought of marriage, the thought of _commitment_ appalled him, so seeing it all happen right before his eyes will make him want to hurl. Maybe seeing two people around his age getting married made him realize how lonely he really was and how lonely he'd continue to be if he relegated himself to getting his fill from strippers and prostitutes. Maybe it made him realize how much of his life he's yet to figure out. Or, maybe, he really just doesn't want to see or remember the day his best friend married someone who wasn't him.

 

As he walked down the aisle as one of the groomsmen, he took in the church's interior. It was a small service with small clusters of guests sprinkled irregularly amongst the pews - some he recognized easily, like his brothers and his mother, and some he's never met before, like Kate's friends or coworkers. Silken banners draped from the ceiling beams, white balloons bobbed near the entrance to the vestibule, and a pristine carpet chased down the aisle to the altar, where Niko and Roman stood. If not for the bridesmaid on Packie's arm whose perfume was like a fist that held him by the neck and choked him, he would've been able to convince himself that he was the one Niko was waiting for.

 

The wedding itself is as traditional as traditional gets - Niko was not allowed to see Kate before the ceremony, nor vice versa, and Kate was supposed to be wearing a slightly modified version of her mother's old wedding dress. However, _Packie_ was allowed to see Niko before the ceremony as one of his groomsmen, having politely declined Niko's offer to be his best man. He didn't even understand why Roman wasn't his first choice, or why he even asked Packie at all, since he'd thought his confession one fateful night would be enough for Niko to want to avoid him like the plague.

 

Packie was just tired of holding it in. He was tired of pretending to be the overly protective older brother. So, he'd made the mistake of telling Niko how he felt about him the night he'd broken up with Kate over some disagreement, and the empty look on Niko's face would continue to burn through Packie's memory for as long as he'd live.

 

He simply sat there, just staring and not speaking, as if he was still waiting for Packie to say something, when Packie had said _everything_. Then, Niko just stood and patted his shoulder and thanked him for being honest with him before leaving wordlessly. Two days later, he and Kate were back on, and Packie saw just how much Niko regarded his feelings. Perhaps he should've asked if he loved him instead of just saying it outright, but, honestly, he already knew the answer.

 

Soon after the bridesmaids and the groomsmen took their places, the ring bearer sauntered down the aisle, followed by the flower girl, littering the white aisle with red rose petals, and signaling the bride's impending entrance.

 

Niko scans his eyes over his entourage of groomsmen as the wedding march begins to play and the guests rise from the pews, standing by the altar with his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes fell on Roman, Brucie, Jacob, Bernie, and, finally, Packie, where his gaze stuck. Packie scrambled to muster up a good enough smile, giving him a flimsy thumbs up for added effect. Niko nodded at him once, his eyes fond and softer than Packie's ever seen them, before returning his gaze to the vestibule entrance. Waiting for Kate. Packie swallows a lump in his throat that's about the size of a tennis ball.

 

Kate finally emerges from the vestibule, her face partially obstructed by the thin veil draping before it, but her smile was still charmingly evident. Her dress was slim-fitting with long lace sleeves and pearls on the bodice, and her auburn hair was twisted up into a soft, if not slightly messy, plait on the side of her head. The adoration in the eyes of the guests was nearly tangible, but not as much so as the adoration in Niko's eyes, something Packie's never seen before. Kate was a lucky lass.

 

Niko takes her gloved hands in his and graces her with a tiny, yet loving smile as she arrives at the altar, glancing once at the preacher to begin the procession. He begins mouthing off a bunch of religious shit that Packie mostly tunes out, his legs going wobbly in anticipation for that _special statement_ that he doesn't exactly know if he's going to respond to or not. Because he's looking at them now, all smiley and giddy, yappy preacher and all, and he doesn't want to wedge himself between that. Not after the multitude of asswipes who'd left Kate with red eyes and a broken heart, not after all the black eyes _he'd_ left _them_ with. Not after seeing all that love in Niko's eyes.

 

This decision would be the one that would kill him, no matter what it was he chose to do.

 

"If any person here can show cause why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or may you forever hold your peace."

 

The proclamation rang through Packie's head, clear as day. None of the guests knew of the tensions between Niko and a certain groomsman, and so they gazed up at the couple absently, obviously not expecting anyone to step forth or rise from the pews. Niko was the only one who knew. Yet, he kept his gaze fixed on Kate, as if he wasn't expecting anyone to step forth, either. And no one did. 

 

Packie's legs nearly buckled from under him. He felt like he'd done the right thing, but, at the same time, he felt like this mistake was a close second to the night he told Niko he loved him. Perhaps he'd done the right thing for Niko and Kate, but he hadn't done so for his ailing heart.

 

Before Packie knew it, the preacher had moved on almost as quickly as a passing tide. The vows and later the rings were being exchanged, and Packie's stomach sank deeper and deeper with each "I do." He so wanted to hate the grin that was undoubtedly on Niko's face, but he knew he couldn't. Niko's happiness was his happiness. So, he should be happy.

 

He should.

 

But smiling no longer came easy to him. It was like trying to lift a broken arm up above your head. So, smile he did not.

 

"What God has joined together, let no man put asunder," The preacher proclaimed, raising his hands skyward. It was almost as if that was addressed specifically to Packie, but it only served to remind him how powerless he really was now. "With the power vested in me by God and the state of Liberty City, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

 

Niko didn't waste any time. He threw Kate's veil from her face and pressed his lips to hers, his arms tight and protective and warm around her waist. Through the cheering and whooping and clapping from what little of an audience they had, they kissed and kissed as though they were truly one, as though their souls, their hearts and bodies joined together like the preacher had said. _A sacred union that shall remain unbroken._

 

Packie was tremendously tardy to the clapping party, his half-hearted, teary-eyed clapping barely in sync with the ecstatic, quick clapping produced by everyone else. He didn't bother wiping his eyes - it'd be easy for anyone that saw him to draw their own conclusions. Him being hopelessly in love with his sister's now-husband would be the last thing they'd suspect, but it'd be the first thing said husband would suspect.

 

* * *

 

 

Later that night, when the reception was in full swing and the sun had set over the Broker skyline, Packie stood at the railing on the top floor of Pier 45, far removed from the festivities occuring in the open-air atrium behind him. He would've expected someone to come out and notice he was here alone and not enjoying himself, but he wasn't expecting that someone to be Niko.

 

Packie's left to stare at Niko in pure bewilderment as he walks up beside him and places his elbows on the railing, studying the water and the city life before him as if he, too, was the outcast of the party, and not the focal point. 

 

"What are you doing here?" Packie asks him incredulously, still staring at him like he'd never understand him.

 

Niko does not turn to face Packie. He chuckles darkly. "I could ask you the same question." Packie tries hard not to focus on how his ring glints in the moonlight, the ring that serves as a reminder that he'll be spending every waking moment of the rest of his life with someone that wasn't him.

 

Instead, Packie follows Niko's gaze, staring blankly out at the water. "Well, I'm not the one who just got married, here. I'm just one of the four brothers of the bride. No one would notice if I was missing."

 

"Yet, here I am."

 

"Yeah," Packie scoffs, trying to disguise the note of irony in his tone, "Here you are." He belonged everywhere else but here.

 

Silence looms over the pair like a low-hanging cloud. Niko's voice splits clean through it. "You didn't object." The statement was both a statement and a question, both a summary of what had happened and what didn't happen.

 

Packie clamps down hard on the thought that maybe he'd _wanted_ him to object, because he didn't. He just wanted to know why.  "She's me kid sister, man. I love her to death. No one's ever made her as happy as you make her. I can't just take that away from her." He's grouped at least three reasons why in one sentence. None of them flow together, but at least Niko's got a raw idea of the utter chaos going on in his mind right about now.

 

Packie remembers that grin he so desperately wanted to hate. He tilts his head down to avoid Niko's gaze and look at his shoes, as if doing so would erase the memory from his head. "She makes you happy, too," He mumbles.

 

Niko's stunned into a solemn silence, as if saying something - anything - would make Packie hurt more than he already has to. He's his best friend, that's the last thing he wants. But it's a shame that the last thing he wants to do is the first thing he does.

 

"I'm sorry." Niko knows how futile an apology is at this point, like a bandaid on a bullet hole, but he doesn't know what else to say that won't twist the knife. In retrospect, he kind of has.

 

But Packie smiles a wan smile and cups Niko's cheeks. "Don't be sorry, you Slavic cocksucker. Ain't you happy?"

 

Niko pretends not to hear the crack in Packie's voice as he says 'happy', pretends not to see the flicker of pain in his eyes or the falter in his smile. He lowers his eyes, almost submissively, as he nods. Packie lifts his chin up to face him.

 

"Then I'm happy," Packie whispers, and he doesn't know if he does so because he's lost his voice from the tightness of his throat or because he doesn't want Niko to see any more chinks in his armor, but really, he's happy for him.

 

Niko shuts his eyes and says his name once, not entirely convinced, but he shushes him, saying, "You're still a fucking prince, man. Always will be." He braces his hands on Niko's shoulders and looks straight into his guilt-ridden eyes. He would always be a prince, but he would no longer be _Packie's_ prince. Strangely, it comforts him more to think that he never was.

 

"Congratulations, Niko."

  
  



End file.
